The Curse

Apparently there are forces at work against me in this universe. Specifically, these forces seem to take issue with my owning a vertically striped scarf, procured in a spanish-speaking country, with colours of a reddish variety.

I had one a few years ago. My cousin bought it for me as a gift from Spain. I wore it to my local bar one night and left it draped over the back of my stool--under my leather jacket. At the end of the night the jacket remained, but the scarf had vanished, never to be seen again.

This summer, I bought another one in Peru. Not identical, mind, but similar. I wore it today--with the same leather jacket--to the second day of my conference. I took it off in my last breakout session, as we were jumping around and I was getting hot. I remember being on the opposite side of the room and seeing it sitting on top of a pile of leftover green fabric, and thinking to myself "I musn't forget to grab my scarf on the way out..."

So guess what I did?

An hour after the session ended, when we had eaten cheese, had a raffle, and listened to a retirement tribute to a woman most of us didn't know, I was getting ready to leave and realized... shit! My scarf!

I ran back down to the room where I had left it, but it was already set up for another event, and when I asked the people there if they had seen it, they told me they had been banished from the room during setup.

I checked at the Operations office. No luck, nor could they locate the cleaning lady.

I checked the coat room for the conference, but to no avail.

I found the people who had facilitated the workshop where I'd lost it and asked if they'd seen anything. Apparently they recalled someone picking it up and asking "Is this yours?" but the memory ends there. (Though one of them did ask for my phone number... and I think he was only half joking. Too bad it wasn't the guy from yesterday.)

I asked the conference coordinator. She said a red scarf had been handed in, but when we went to find it, it was gone. "It must have been someone else's," she said.

I went back to Operations and waited... and waited... and still they couldn't find it. A lady took my name and number.

I talked to the cleaning crew when I went to make a final check upstairs. They were adamant that they'd found nothing.

So my question is: who the fuck would steal a scarf from a freaking CONFERENCE? A conference of Arts Educators, no less? I mean, I know we're all poor, but is this really what it's come to? Stealing from one another?

And more importantly: why doesn't the universe want me to have a red scarf? Particularly one of sentimental value?

If I weren't such a damned cynic, I'd think it was a metaphor for something larger... like my inability to hold onto love, or some shit.

Really, though, I think it's just the universe fucking with me.

I wish it would stop.


__________________

UPDATE: I just received an email from the guy running the workshop (whom I emailed last night in desperation) and my scarf has been found! It got mixed up with their loose fabric and ended up in their suitcase. HOORAY!!!